


The Ear

by ladycyon



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, but much much later, kinda basing this off the 2k7 movie, these two are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:44:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladycyon/pseuds/ladycyon
Summary: Raph yanked his arm away from Casey with a growl. “Is this your idea of a joke?” he snapped his irritation growing. “What part of mutant turtle don’t you get?”“The part where you ain’t a mutant turtle, you’re a big mutant chicken,” Casey quipped back, his own temper flaring. Was it so much to ask that his boyfriend could have a little trust in him?





	The Ear

It was Casey that found The Ear. It was somewhat of a miracle he did, considering. The street itself was narrow and easily missed. The decrepit paint job and the flickering neon sign above the door were mostly obscured by an overgrown maple. The building itself was decidedly run down, bordering on ramshackle. All this ensured the establishment went largely unnoticed by most.

There was a certain liminal quality to it, some peculiar charm or glamour that caused it to be overlooked, forgotten as soon as it was seen, except to those who belonged there. Casey had felt drawn to it.

As soon as he’d entered he knew it was perfect. Plus, the bartender mixed a hell of a cocktail.

It was late fall when he discovered the bar, and the weather had been cold and damp that week. Winds blustered and driving sheets of rain swept through the city. It was the sort of weather that drove people indoors, slowed down traffic.

But crime stopped for nothing.

It was miserable out, but they still had a job to do. Vigilantism was a cool occupation, except when it wasn’t. They were soaked to the bone and shivering by the time they finished their patrol.

Then Casey dragged Raph to the bar, claiming he had just the thing to warm them up.

Raph skulked in the shadows of the alley and bristled in annoyance. Casey hadn’t told him where they were going and he’d balked when he saw Casey heading for the entrance of a building. Casey was almost to the door when he noticed Raph was no longer behind him.

He found him around the corner, pressed up against the building and tucked beneath an overhang. He was wearing Casey’s own oversized hoodie, which was soaked through and clinging to the turtle, but the hood did a good job of obscuring his face.

No doubt it also hid a churlish expression.

“Are you nuts?” Raph started in on Casey as soon as he’d joined him beneath the overhang. “That’s a place for humans. I can’t go in there!”

“It’s fine,” Casey insisted, tugging on his arm. “I checked it out ahead of time. Come on, you’re gonna love it.”

Raph yanked his arm away from Casey with a growl. “Is this your idea of a joke?” he snapped his irritation growing. “What part of mutant turtle don’t you get?”

“The part where you ain’t a mutant turtle, you’re a big mutant chicken,” Casey quipped back, his own temper flaring. Was it so much to ask that his boyfriend could have a little trust in him? It stung a bit if he was being honest, but Casey also knew Raph had plenty of reasons to be wary.

“Chicken?!” Raph snarled.

Good thing Casey knew what buttons to push.

“I ain’t no chicken,” Raph defended his honor, getting up in Casey’s face. Casey merely turned and headed back out into the rain, towards the entrance of the bar.

“Prove it,” he challenged, waving a hand back at Raph. “Come have a drink.”

Casey was using every ounce of his self control to keep from turning to see if Raph would allow himself to be goaded into following. His concentrated on his feet, skidding over the wet dead leaves and maple seeds littering the pavement. Just as he reached the door, he felt Raph’s surly presence at his side, felt the turtle’s elbow jab into his ribs - presumably to signify Raph’s annoyance at the situation as well as his unwillingness to back down from an issued challenge.

Sometimes it was too easy.

With his back still to Raph, Casey smiled to himself as he opened the door and led the way inside.

\--

“Y’were right, I love this place,” Raph slurred as he sloppily upended the last of their third pitcher into his cup. Or was it the fourth? Casey had lost track.

They had taken up residence in a deeply shadowed corner booth. The bar was underground and the lighting was dim to begin with, but the sconce above this particular table had a burned out bulb that no one had bothered to replace.

Raph had immediately gravitated towards the comforting protection of the shadows, sliding into the high backed booth, still looking flighty. He nervously tugged on his hood, further obscuring his face, but no one had been looking. No one had even turned their head when they had entered.

It was just that kind of place.

Towards the end of the first pitcher, Raph had started to unwind, the tension ebbing away from him and Casey let out a breath he didn’t know he been holding. Raph could be so mercurial in his reactions, it was hard to predict how things were going to play out with him until they did..

Casey _really_ wanted Raphael to like this place, to enjoy himself, to feel normal. For once. And if maybe it put his boyfriend in a good enough mood for Casey to get lucky, well that was just a side benefit.

To Casey’s relief, it seemed to be working.

Raph scooted closer to him with every glass of beer he drained and his thigh was pressed tight against Casey’s own. He was peering curiously around at the other patrons, noting he was not the only one hiding beneath a hood, sticking to shadows. People here - and Casey wasn’t convinced they were all entirely _people_ at this point - seemed eager to mind their own business and reluctant to draw attention to themselves.

When Casey went up to the bar to get them another pitcher, he could have sworn the bartender had a forked tongue like a snake. It flickered briefly and disappeared before Casey could decide if it had been real or not. He was pretty well drunk by then, and it took him a moment to realize he was staring. He paid for the beer and hurried away.

He was still debating the fact as he returned to their booth, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he plunked the pitcher down on the table. Raph reached for the handle immediately - knocking Casey’s hand out of the way impatiently - and refilled his mug, sloshing a good amount out over the side of the glass.

Something was different, Casey realized. He sat back down, tried to press up against Raph like they’d been before, but Raph scooted away. Casey looked at him confusedly, but that stupid hoodie withheld any expressive clues he might have gleaned.

“Raph?” he questioned, wondering what had prompted the behavior change.

Raph didn’t reply. Instead, he lifted his glass to his lips, gulping down the whole thing in a matter of a few seconds. He slammed it back down to the table harder than was necessary, his grip holding fast and tight on the glass. After what seemed like an eternity, he growled, “see something you like over there?”

Casey squinted as his beer soaked brain fought for comprehension. _Was he really..?_ Casey threw his hands up. “Oh for the love of--- no Raph.”

“No? Cause it looked like--”

“Looked like _nothing_ ,” Casey snapped, “Because it was nothing. Can we not start this again?”

“You were starin’” Raph insisted.

“Yeah, because she had a fucked up tongue dude,” Casey’s voice was getting louder, betraying his frustration at the jealous song and dance Raph waltzed out any time Casey even sneezed in a woman’s direction. This wasn’t the first time Raph’s covetous streak had ruined an otherwise perfectly good night.

“You were thinking about her tongue?!” Raph reached for the pitcher again. “Oh god.”

“Not like that, asshat.” Casey quipped, his annoyance mounting.

“Why else would you think about her tongue?” Raph moaned in dismay. He somehow managed to sound both angry and morose. Casey was suddenly filled with the urge to punch him.

“Because it was split in two, like a snake. Dude. It was _weird_.” If he couldn’t quite keep the defensive tone out of his voice, he could hardly be blamed.

“Two tongues? How can I compete with that?” Raph was practically wailing. He’d reached the point of no return and he was still going. He reached for the pitcher _again_.

Casey took a deep breath and willed himself not to murder his boyfriend. “Raph.”

But what could he say? Casey found he didn’t even have words for how old, how asinine, how insulting this argument had gotten. Raph was too drunk and tangled up in his emotions to see how ridiculous he was being. Casey was tired of proving his loyalty time and again.

He knocked Raph’s hand out of the way and claimed the pitcher for himself.

_Yeah drink more Jones, that’ll help._

He lifted the drink to his mouth regardless, scowling into his beer. This was not how he’d envisioned the end of the night. The beer hit his stomach and turned sour.

He discovered he’d had enough after all.


End file.
